


Operation Interview

by ladydanger



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bad Decisions, F/M, New York Bulletin, a lot of booze, first fanfic, journalist!reader, party like a journalist, reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-07 04:24:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6785062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydanger/pseuds/ladydanger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are working as a journalist for the New York Bulletin and your boss asked you to do an interview with the one and only Captain America. But why did you have to go out the night before the biggest interview of your life?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! My first fanfic ever and I'm so excited. English is my second language, so there may or may not be a few grammar mistakes that slipped past me. The idea for this fanfic has been stuck in my head for a week now and I had to put it on paper. There are so many amazing stories and writers out here and it got me inspired to contribute something to the community.
> 
> Let me know what you think, please! And if there are some fellow Dutch people reading this, come say hi!

You couldn’t believe it. Well, actually, you sort of could. You graduated with an Honours degree in Journalism and did a couple of important pieces for the local newspaper back in your hometown and a few well known magazines here in New York, the place you have moved to two years ago. But it’s only been a year since you’ve been working for the New York Bulletin and now your boss asked you to do an interview with none other than Steve Rogers, a.k.a. Captain fucking America.

It’s been six months since the incident in Sokovia and four years since the Battle of New York, or The Incident, as people nowadays called the alien invasion. The New York Bulletin wanted an article about how Captain America looked back on these tragedies. How could you refuse? An hour with the Star-Spangled Avenger and you got paid for it, a dream coming true, right? You never met Steve Rogers in person, only saw him on television during press conferences or when he was the guest at a talkshow. The best one yet was when Steve Rogers was a guest at the Ellen DeGeneres show and Ellen gushed a whole minute over his hard-as-fucking-diamond abs. Steve uttered a polite thank you (while the crowd was going wild) and he even made a joke ("my abs are as hard as my shield, m'am", to which Ellen replied: "O really, what else can get as hard?", which got Captain Rogers to choke on his water when he took a sip). 

You read a lot of interviews with him in different magazines, too. You couldn't deny he was not only a handsome man, but a kind man too, if the interviews were anything to go by. Maybe a bit too polite and he frowned way too much during those press conferences, but the Super Soldier Serum  _probably_ fixed wrinkles too so he probably didn't worry much about his visage, you thought. 

The appointment was set in a week from now and you've heard from your boss it's been a hell to arrange this interview, even though The Bulletin was the most prestige newspaper in New York. Nerves flowed through your body as you tried to find the right outfit you would wear. Would you go for a nice dark jeans or a pencil skirt? Maybe a little black dress with a high collar? You always dressed with care and people always complimented you on your fashion sense, but you wanted to look extra nice for the occasion. You presented The New York Bulletin and a good impression was always half the work. Who knows if this would set you for interviews with the other Avengers.

But the other half consisted of actually preparing questions for the interview. Sure, you needed to do a throwback with Captain America, but you needed more to fill out the article. Your boss gave you a full spread in the newspaper and you wanted to make the most of it. So that's what you did that evening: doing more research, thinking up questions and drinking coffee to stay awake. In the morning your alarm would go off at six thirty, since you were expected in the newsroom at 8; a whole new day of hunting down the news in New York City. 

So when your friends called that evening to hang out tonight - "only  _one_  drink, come on!" - you had to decline and told them work kept you busy. You had quite a social life and knew how to party until the morning light. Sometimes it was difficult to balance your work and 'living the good life'-lifestyle and you have been guilty of showing up still a bit drunk in the newsroom, more than once. Your boss knew, but he kept one eye closed  _only_  because your articles were quite impressive. "And try to party less this week, okay?", were his parting words on the phone before he ended the connection. You promised him. You were a hard working gal and you would stay home for the rest of the evenings to prepare yourself for the biggest interview in your life.

... If only. You have been a good girl, truly. No drinking. No dancing. Preparing your interview to the max and you were sure if things would go as planned it would be the star spread of the whole fucking month. So why could your friend convince you to go to that super exclusive party of the one and only Tony Stark the day before the interview? 

Yes. Tony Stark. One of your best friends is now dating this guy who is not only one of the architects of the Stark Tower in Manhattan, but also a friend of the CEO of Stark Industries, Virginia Potts. Your best friend, Emma, is in love and she wants you to meet her new boyfriend, Alex. And apparently he wants to meet you too, because he arranged a plus one for your friend, so you could tag along and share a few drinks (secretly you think this was a set up of your friend because you've been so busy these last months and hadn't had the time to probably meet her bae and she knew you couldn't say no to an invite such an exclusive event like this). And honestly, you thought it would stay with a  _few_  drinks. 

Dressed up in a chique cocktail dress in your favorite color and matching heels, you stepped out of the cab in front of one of the most prestige clubs in New York, somewhere in the Upper East Side. There was a line of people on the red carpet and a row of paparazzi stood near the entrance.  _If my boss will see the pictures he will probably murder me,_ you thought absently.  _Or not._ One of your other motives to go to the party was work related. You knew you had a big interview tomorrow, but it was also common knowledge a lot influential people would be present at Tony Starks party. A bit of networking wouldn't hurt anybody, right? Maybe it would become useful in the future. On the other hand, you were not here as a journalist, but as a guest. And you were feeling like a rather pretty guest in your dress. Maybe you needed the relaxation. It's been a busy week with doing interviews for the opening of the new metro line that was destroyed during The Incident and preparing for your interview with Captain America. 

You met Emma in front of the building, without Alex. He was already inside, so you could meet him there. And how excited your friend was. She gave you a big hug and complimented on how you looked (lovely as always, but did you lose weight?). Of course she gave you a lecture about how long it's been and how you should've had drinks with her sooner and of course you replied with how busy you are with your job. Funnily enough you didn't even tell her you had an interview with one of Tony Starks colleagues in less than twelve hours. Maybe it was her excitement and you didn't want to spoil the evening by telling her you had to leave earlier. Maybe you didn't want to leave early, because once you were inside you had the time of your life...  
  


 


	2. Party Doll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You woke up, not remembering a thang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is coming from Buddy Knox's Party Doll.

 

A painful screeching noise woke you up with a jolt. Your heart beat wildly in your chest as you tried to remember who the fuck set your alarm this early. It was not exactly early in the morning; daylight filtered softly through the white curtains in the bedroom, but your still alcohol-clouded mind couldn't quite comprehend that the first few seconds you awoke. You were still wearing the dress from the night before and your heels were thrown haphazardly in the room.You looked on the alarm clock and it said it was a Thursday and currently 9 o'clock in the morning. 

...

O boy. Oh fuck. No, no, no, no,  **no.** You had exactly less than one hour to shower, get dressed and hurry the fuck over to the Avengers Tower for your appointment with Captain America. 

You were no newbie to panic attacks, as a journalist (and former student) you experienced them quite a lot. The sudden racing of your heart as an important source cancelled or when a deadline approached way too quickly and only the dateline of an article was written or the sweaty hands when one of your colleagues fell ill and you had to do their work as well. 

The only difference was that this panic attack was nothing compared to the previous ones. 

It didn't help you were still a bit drunk from the night before.

You couldn't remember how you got home or what time you got home.

 _What the fuck_  happened at Tony Stark's party?

You jumped out of bed and marched to the kitchen to make the strongest espresso ever, silently cursing yourself on the way. You knew it was a bad idea to go out and yet you didn't listen to yourself.  _Only a few drinks, ha_ , you scoffed. Lucky you were early in your twenties and hangovers were infrequent, but you knew that on the end of this day you would surely die from exhaustion. Your feet hurt too.  _Probably from dancing last night._ You couldn't remember with whom you danced, though. Not that it mattered right now. You downed your espresso with unsteady hands, still piping hot and you made your way to the bathroom, still coughing. But you were a soldier of some sorts, you've been trough this before and you were still alive.

A quick look in the bathroom mirror told you enough. Smeared make-up, so you must have plopped right into bed without cleaning your face. Probably didn't brush your teeth either. After washing your make-up off, you noted dark circles under your eyes. 

You showered quickly, first with hot water to wash your hair and body and a quick rinse with cold water last, to wake yourself up with an extra boost. In the shower your thoughts wandered of to the party and what you could remember. You recalled sipping expensive champagne, dancing in strong arms and laughing. But nothing else. You hoped your memories would return as the day went on. 

You might like partying and doing irresponsible stuff sometimes, but you were always prepared for interviews. The outfit you picked out hang on a hook in your walk-in closet. After brushing your teeth (you hoped the alcohol didn't still linger in your breath), dried your hair and did your make-up (with extra concealer to hide the tiredness under your eyes), you got dressed. In the meanwhile another espresso was consumed and two glasses of water. 

You looked in the floor length mirror and were a bit surprised you looked calm and collected, such a difference with how you were feeling inside. Nervous butterflies fluttering in your chest, still a trace of panic and... was that self-doubt? Were you actually the right person to interview Steve Rogers?  _Not this crap right now,_ you groaned inwardly.  _Please, get yourself together or you'll lose your job for sure._

Grabbing a take away salad out of your fridge and your bag from the table, you dashed out of your house straight to the cab that was waiting in front of your appartment. You smiled. You were always prepared.

 

* * *

 

You may be prepared, but the pounding of your heart and the pounding of your head could not be controlled. Your hands were a bit sweaty too as you read your questions for the interview, even though you knew them by heart. You hoped that the aspirin you took would soon do it's job. In the meantime you noticed the driver glancing at you through the car mirror.   
  
"Is there something on my face?" you asked him, curiously.   
  
The driver had the decency to look at least a bit ashamed by his goggling. "No, sorry miss, but you do look like the woman in the newspaper, actually."

You blinked. He recognized you as a reporter? You did wrote yesterdays column and he must've recognized you from the picture next to your work. "O, yeah, you're right. I'm writing for the New York Bulletin. Funny you recognized me though, such a small picture!" 

The driver gave you a curious look, but then smiled. "You had a great night?"

 _What was he talking about now?_  "Sure," you said, slowly. "Do I look that bad?" You made a grab for your bag and searched for the compact mirror you always carried with you.

"Of course not, miss," the driver said quickly. "You look amazing, err- just making small talk I guess... Never mind." he trailed off.  
  
While you inspected your face and noting nothing amiss, you apologized. "I'm sorry, I had but a few hours sleep and I'm nervous for the interview I'm doing." The fact that it was pretty busy on the streets and the cab was driving at a snails pace didn't help to calm your nerves, either. But you had enough time to make it, still glancing at your watch every ten seconds.   
  
"I understand, I won't bother you then, miss," was the reply of the driver. The rest of the ride was being rode in silence, only the sound of traffic being heard. 

From your window you could see the Avengers Tower, the highest skyscraper of New York, looming in the distance. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooh what will happen now? Will you mess up the interview or not? The Captain will arrive in the next chapter, I promise. 'Bit nervous to write him, though.


	3. D-day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback to the night before and you finally meet Captain America in person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to change to title of the story, as you can see. Enjoy, darlings!

**_The evening before ..._ **

 

_Sitting with your friend at the bar, delicately nipping your cocktail, you both shared stories about recent events. Mostly her gushing about her new boyfriend and telling the story of how they met, not that you minded. You were happy for her. Both of you graduated at the same university. She helped you finding a place in New York after and you stayed in contact ever since. At one point, her boyfriend - Alex - decided to join and the three of you were soon engaged in light conversation._

  
_“Young man, who are these fine looking ladies doing in your company?”_  
_You looked over your shoulder to come eye in eye with the host of the successful party, Tony Stark. He clasped a hand on Alex's’ shoulder and smiled brightly, clearly a bit intoxicated, between you and Emma, holding a whiskey in his other hand._  
 _  
“This is my girlfriend Emma,” Alex said proudly, looking very much in love as he gazed at your friend, “and this is her dear friend-” Alex gave Tony your name. Tony shook Emma's hand first, commenting how Alex managed to woo such someone so good-looking. After that, Tony turned to you._

_“How do you do, mister Stark,” you said polity. Tony waved it off._

  _“No, no. You can call me Tony. Mister Stark is my father. And you… do I know you?” Tony looked questionally. “It feels like I should remember such a pretty face as yourself.”_

  _You let out a seemly laugh. It was well-known Tony Stark was the ultimate playboy slash bachelor, before his relationship with Virginia Potts and apparently still holding on to his former charm._

_“No, sir, other than that I wrote an article about the renovation of the former Stark Tower, and I was present during your err - heavy lifting of the lettering,” you explained._

  _“Ah, so you are a journalist!” Tony said, as if that was the answer to a difficult equation. “I never slept with you, have I? Nah… That would be an awkward situation and you are not looking awkward right now. So what are you writing for?”_

_“The New York Bulletin,” you answered, unfazed. “Actually, I’m doing an interview tomorrow with one of your ex-colleagues, Captain America.” Oh crap, why did you have to boast, you promised yourself not to tell anyone!_

_Tony’s face lit up like christmas lights (Emma looked shocked, with an why-haven’t-you-told-me look and you mouthed a silent “sorry” to her)._ _  
_ _“You are doing an interview with the Capsicle! Where and when, I should definitely pop by. Then again, this party will probably last ‘till the sun comes up and I am not leaving until this beautiful bottle of 50 year old Glenfiddich is finished… You drinkin’ whisky? You got to have a taste - come and leave these two lovebirds alone… let’s throw a real party!” Before you could protest, Tony Stark dragged you from your chair, manoeuvring you off into the crowd._

 

* * *

 

**… The present**

Your high heels clicked on the gleaming, marble floor as you walked to the reception desk of the Avengers Tower. It was an impressive building from the outside, but the inside was equally impressive. No wonder it took four years to built, only to be ruined a few months later during the Incident. The top of the building - back then still called Stark Tower - was destroyed by the Hulk, Thor and his brother Loki. Plans were made to renovate the top section and the Avengers Tower was born. Tony Stark himself did the lettering again, as he did with Stark Tower. You were there that day, as a reporter, amongst the sea of press. Everyone wanted to get a quote. Tony Stark being Tony Stark, did not disappoint and descended from the sky in his Iron Man suit. You swear he even winked at you.

 

Though still bearing the name as Avengers Tower, it was no longer used as the high quarters of the Avengers. After the devastation in Sokovia and not to mention Tony Stark's failed experiment called Ultron (who also did an amount of damage to the tower, so renovations were in order _again_ ), Stark decided to leave the Avengers. In one of the interviews he gave at the time, with one of your colleagues from The Bulletin, he said he "wanted a break", because he needed time to focus on his billion dollar company - Stark Industries - and "the love of my life, miss Virginia Potts". How sweet. During a press conference Stark informed that the Avengers' base would be relocated to a new facility, but not revealing its location.

 

Your boss informed you Steve Rogers wanted to do the interview somewhere private, so what place would be better than the Avengers Tower? You normally did your interviews in restaurants or people their homes, only you could imagine that Captain America drinking a cup of coffee in a public place - even a secluded area - would cause a lot of commotion and alert the _other_ press. After all, Captain America was a celebrity. And an interview at his home... where did he even live? Of course you did your research being the good little journalist you are, but nowhere - literally nowhere - a report of someone spotting Steve Rogers opening his front door. You wouldn't be surprised if the Avengers had a special team set up to cover that sort of private information on social media.

 

Hosting your bag a bit higher on your shoulder - and despite your nerves - you managed to pull of a confident stroll (or so you hoped). The receptionist looked up with a smile as you approached.

"Hello, I'm from the New York Bulletin and here for an interview with captain Rogers," you introduced yourself to the blonde woman behind the counter, after you flashed her a smile.

"I see, I recognized you!" The blonde said, and she was typing information in her computer, probably looking at the agenda of the day.

 _Her too? I must be getting popular._ "I have an appointment at ten o'clock," you said.

She gave you an affirmative nod. "Alright, miss Myerson If you could show me your identification card - thank you -  and walk through the body scan over there..."

 

After completing the procedure - which also including signing a few papers, the receptionist told you you could take one of the lifts behind her and Friday would help you further. You were a bit confused, but didn't question her and stepped into the most right elevator. After the door closed (you immediately fixed your appearance in the surrounding mirrors, trying to smooth out fly-away hairs), you were created by a pleasant voice.

 

"Hello miss Myerson, I am Friday and I'm here to assist you to captain Rogers, who is waiting for you on third floor."

You made a little jump and looked up and around the elevator. _What the..._ "You... are a computer or something?" was the not so intelligent thing you uttered.

"That is right. I am an artificial intelligence program, made by mister Stark. You could say I am his personal assistant.”

So Tony Stark made another A.I. besides Ultron? What’s up with that?  "Okay... Nice to meet you, Friday,” you said a bit warily.

"Nice to meet you too, miss Myerson. You are now on the third floor." With a little ding the elevator opened it's doors and you were greeted with the sight of an empty, but specious room, which you immediately recognized from the news. This floor is where press conferences concerning Tony Stark or the Avengers (in the past) were conducted. You took a few steps forward and looked around the room. Chairs were piled up against the wall and the large table at the end of the room with microphones attached - the place where the Avengers would sit - looked almost... lonely. It's been six months since the last conference. You remembered being glued to your couch before the television, watching in tension as Captain America told the press about what happened in Sokovia.

 

You remembered the footage of the local news channel in Sokovia, broadcasting live how an enormous piece of land was lifted by giant rockets, slowly soaring higher and higher. There was chaos everywhere and people were confused and shocked and crying. News channels all over the world picked up the broadcast soon enough and in minutes the happening in Sokovia was world wide news. The whole world held their breath as the camera picked up Tony Starks’ Iron Man ( _"This must mean the Avengers are here, we are saved!"_ the reporter jubilated in Russian, which was translated), holding up the earth as Atlas himself, while the people caught on the floating 'island' were guided to jets, to bring them to safety. You remembered your sudden disbelief as you saw the earth fell from the sky, exploding into thousand pieces. Captain America explained later, during the press conference, this was a planned action -  to minimize the deaths and destruction.

 "If you take the hall on your right and then the second door on your left, you will find the room where captain Rogers is waiting for you," Friday continued. "Good luck, miss."

You swallowed, trying to dispose of the big ball of nerves constricting your throat. "Thank you, Friday."

As you made your way through the building, you recited the questions you had for the captain and before you knew it you stood before the office door which Captain America was waiting behind. This really was happening.  "Alright, get a grip on yourself," you murmured. "You are going to nail this." You were a professional. You took a big breath and slowly breathed out, slipping into journalist mode, before pushing the door open.

 

* * *

 

 

 

You were greeted with the sight of Captain America, Steve Rogers, standing up from the couch, as you stepped into the room. And he was a sight for sore eyes. You knew he was a muscled guy - _super soldier_ \- but you weren't prepared for the sheer size of him compared to yourself. And you were a prepared woman, normally. Dressed in simple clothing - a dress shirt and jeans - he wore a neutral expression, but as you walked closer you could see the corners of his mouth were lifted in... amusement?

"A pleasure to finally meet you, sir," you said formally and you gave him your name, along with an honest smile, showing your teeth. You stretched your hand out, his hand grabbing yours with a confident handshake. _Ok-ay, his hands were big._ "I'm from the New York Bulletin."

"I gathered," were Captain America's first words to you, his voice a strong baritone. “Would you like to take a seat, something to drink?" He lead you the plush L-shaped couch at the end of the room, facing the large windows overlooking the garden on the south side. As you took a seat, straightening your skirt first, you took in your surroundings. The room had a business-like interior, only there was a bar present on the side of the room in true Tony Stark fashion.

"A glass of water, please," you answered him, looking back at the captain. "Bit of a dry throat, actually." _Not that the sight of you isn’t mouth-watering, but a glass of water would be nice._

A curious thing to see Steve Rogers tilt his head knowingly. "Had a rough night?" he asked casually, as he walked to the bar, giving you a nice view of his muscled behind. _God praise America..._

 

You decided to avert your gaze (silently applauding yourself for your willpower) to pack your stuff from your shoulder bag; your recorder, notepad with questions and your camera. "You could say something like that," you mused. _Not going to tell Captain America I attended the party of the year, got so drunk I remember barely anything and it's a sheer luck I didn't miss this appointment and if I did, I would lose my job._ “Why’d you ask?”

 

"Because all the journo's I know tend to drink coffee," Steve Rogers answered. "That and you are in the newspaper, miss. Partyin' all night with Tony Stark is a surefire way to get your picture taken for the frontpage."

 

...

         ...

                  ...

                           What.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As if our dearest captain couldn't hear your mumbling before you entered the room ;) ;) ;)
> 
> Let me know what you think, comments are appreciated. And if you have some questions for Captain America, please let me know, 'cause I'm a bit struggling.


End file.
